


Festival Dance

by Laylah



Category: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: F/F, Kink Bingo Prize, Pre-Canon, Strip Tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-15
Updated: 2011-05-15
Packaged: 2017-10-19 10:31:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Just enjoying some peace and quiet," Fang says. "Didn't feel like dancing with all of Oerba tonight."</p><p>Vanille leans down, and in the tree's shadow her teasing smile is barely visible. "You could at least dance with <i>me</i>."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Festival Dance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dagas isa (dagas_isa)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dagas_isa/gifts).



> Congrats on your blackout in Kink Bingo 2010!

The festival music is still playing, the pounding of the drums following her as Fang slips away into the dark. Some nights she's up for a party, but tonight it all seems a little hectic, a little busy, and she's not looking for that much company. She finds a familiar spot under a spreading tree and leans back, looking out toward the moons just rising on the horizon.

She wouldn't mind a _little_ company, though, and when she hears the soft tramp of footsteps up the path behind her, she's pretty sure she knows who it is.

"There you are," Vanille says. "Are you off in a sulk?"

"Just enjoying some peace and quiet," Fang says. "Didn't feel like dancing with all of Oerba tonight."

Vanille leans down, and in the tree's shadow her teasing smile is barely visible. "You could at least dance with _me_."

"We can do that anywhere," Fang says.

"Right here?" Vanille asks.

Fang finds herself smiling back. "You have something in mind."

Vanille shrugs, an easy, loose motion of her shoulders. "Maybe," she says.

Fang expects to be dragged up out of her spot, but instead Vanille just takes a step back, swaying to the distant sound of the festival music. She closes her eyes and starts to dance.

This isn't the wild, energetic motion of the festival square—it's something slower, more intimate, the drums marking a heartbeat for Vanille to slink and sway. Her hands skate over her waist; the furs of her overskirt brush her thighs and then slip down, falling free and baring her long, sleek legs. Fang swallows hard against the immediate _want_ the sight provokes, holding still with an effort.

Vanille toys with the strings of her top, arching a questioning eyebrow at Fang. "Don't stop," Fang says. "Beautiful girl."

"You like what you see," Vanille says, letting her strands of beads unwind and slither down her limbs.

"You didn't even ask a question," Fang says. "You know I do." She reaches out, but Vanille evades her grasp, laughing, shaking her head.

"Not yet," she says. "I'm not through dancing."

"Let me see you dance, then," Fang says.

And Vanille does, following the beat of those drums, her every movement a graceful, lightfooted tease, shedding her clothes a scrap at a time until she's wearing only her boots and her beautiful, confident smile. She's all long limbs and soft curves, the gentle swell of hips and breasts, smooth skin washed white by the moonlight.

"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," Fang tells her, holding out one hand. "May I have this dance?"

Vanille laughs. "Since you ask so nicely," she says. She takes Fang's hand, and lets Fang pull her down.


End file.
